The Resurrection Stone
by FrenchGirlWriting
Summary: The Deathly Hallows only met their full power when they merged into the pure body of a wizard. The Resurrection Stone never chose a body to live into, never...until Hermione Granger.
1. The witch, the stone and the dark lake

****CHAPTER I****

 ** **The stone, the witch and the black lake****

"Harry has to die..."

As soon as the words left her mouth, the witch felt sick. She chancelled and her hand found the leather of the worn chair on her side, gripping it tightly enough to hurt herself.

"Please tell me I am wrong...Professor, please..."

If she had the strength, she would have screamed to fill the silence of the man before her. But she was so tired that her voice seemed to break a little more at each word she uttered. Hermione Granger never liked noise, and she would often find comfort in the thick silence of the library, but in this moment she would have given anything to make her quiet and soft professor speak.

Remus Lupin looked at her with a pale and worn face, his mouth stubbornly closed. The young woman grabbed a handful of her curly hair with her fist and tugged on it.

"I have to think...think, think...There is always more than one solution. Dumbledor would never have...He wouldn't...He couldn't do this to Harry."

The silence around her started to fade, now full of her loud and stuttering breath. Was that it ? So they couldn't win ? Harry, sweet Harry, could never win against such a monster. And he was going to die trying because a part of this monster was currently living in him. Dumbledor knew it, and the stone was to permit Harry to kill Voldemort even after he had died.

The witch let out a strange noise, as if lost in between a breathless laugh and a broken sob as she raised her right arm angrily. Proeminent veins ran over it, cutting it like purples wounds, and the strangest thing about it was a stone, deeply carved in the skin of her wrist. A dark stone with an outworldly and strangely enchanting glow, as clear as a black diamond and as misty as a cloudy night's sky.

"If the resurrection stone is the only way for Harry to kill this monster... Why is it here ?! How do I get rid of it ?!"

Remus let himself fall into an old wooden chair, putting his head in his hands, as if he wanted to hide his face from the nightmare that was enfolding itself before them. His voice then finally echoed in the dusty study of Grimmaud Place.

"The story of The Deathly Hallows doesn't stop after the death of the Peverell's brothers. It actually never stopped. The Hallows never disappeared, they just escaped the eyes of the wizarding world before reappearing again and again. It is said that they are always searching for new masters, new wizards to use...It is even believed that when they will find the perfect master, they will take his body as a new receptacle and enlish their full power."

Hermione shaked her head, gripping her right wrist, tugging and scratching it as if hoping that the stone would come off.

"The resurrection stone belonged to the heirs of Salazar Slytherin, the Gaunt family, for generations. But it had never chosen a body...Never, until you."

"Are you saying that I am the master of this stone now, professor ?"

"No, I am saying that you are the stone."

§§§

 _ _"You must protect it, protect yourself always. If the stone is lost, we have no hope of winning this battle...Remember that you must not bleed and you absolutely must not approach death. If you bleed, if your body is in danger of death, the stone will protect it. It will keep you alive and far from the danger, guiding you to a place where no harm could come and get you, where you would be protected, maybe even in another world. I couldn't tell you where, no one can...And no one can know."__

The words of her professor had haunted Hermione and her far away look didn't go unnoticed. Harry and Ron relayed each other, always asking her if she was doing okay, if she was fine, if she needed help. In these moments she wanted to scream, she wanted to let the truth fall from her mouth and plea for help...But she knew they couldn't help her. No one could, and that made her keep her mouth shut and smile, and this smile seemed to cut her lips.

She often thanked the heavens that these boys were so thick. They never saw how different she grew each day, never perceived that neither the cold winter nor the lack of food seemed to attack her skin, which was always more golden and healthy, how her eyes had become as clear and as intense as ambers or how her hair were so thick, so full, in these awful living conditions...How alive she seemed, so alive, as if liquid life flowed in her veins. As if she was a warm living day of summer in a dead world.

But none of this mattered anymore. They were lost, and they would lose, she thought, as her wand rolled across the marble floor of the room, far away from her.

"Crucio !" screamed a high-pitched voice, soon covered by her screams.

She fell into the ground as the spell hit her. Her body convulsing and her mouth forced opened by her screams. It felt like death...If one had told her that she would die here, in Malfoy's house, and before his eyes she would have laugh. Her eyes encountered the pale gaze of Draco Malfoy, sitted on a luxurious chair with the rest of his family. He looked at the ground, as if trying to shut himself from the cries, from the noises of pains and from the sight she offered.

 _ _Coward...He would be a coward until the end...__

"Tell me how you entered my vault ?!" asked Bellatrix Lestrange gripping with her long and cruel fingers her face, her nails digging into her full cheeks.

Hermione looked at her with as much strength as she could muster, her body shaking but her eyes unmoving, unforgiving as they were looking at the mad witch. Bellatrix Lestrange had to have been a beautiful woman once, before Azkaban broke her, before madness claimed her and before she sold herself to the dark wizard she called master. But now her aristocratic face was emaciated and wasted by her unstability...She looked every bit like the shell of the woman you described as a witch in children's fairy tales.

Such a cruel, worn and rotten woman...Seeing her, Hermione could only think one thing.

"I pity you", the young witch croacked, her voice already hurt by her screams.

The face of Bellatrix seemed to discompose itself under the words. As if this simple sentence was like acid tossed at her face.

"How dare you...How dare you pity me...You dirty, dirty mudblood ! CRUCIO !"

Her mouth opened, but no screams came out. Her body twisted itself, her back arched and her head hit the ground. It wasn't death...Death would have been sweeter. This was raw, unadultered pain, pure pain and she felt it destroying her.

Even with all of her courage, she felt afraid as Bellatrix Lestrange hit her with a third, a fourth, a fifth curse, as the merciless rythm of heart started to slow down and that her burning blood became cold, that her whole body became cold.

She wanted it to be finished. But if there was something that Hermione Granger was even when she was afraid, even when she cried, it was proud. She made her hands into fists and ground her teeths together as tears escaped her eyes, and she looked at her tormentor with all of her emotions, with pain, with fear and with pride.

"How dare you look at me like that..."

The voice of Bellatrix only expressed her cold anger. And if there was one thing more terrifying than her hysteria, it was this cold cruelty that burned inside her eyes. This raw desire to hurt and this frantic anticipation of her victim pain. Calmly the witch took a dagger out of her black belt. It looked old and priceless and its blade was glowing in a strange and dark way. It was without a doubt a dangerous weapon, like an embodiement of the wickedness of wizards of the old.

As soon as she saw it, Hermione understood. The woman didn't want to kill her with a spell. She wanted to hurt her in a muggle way, to take away her dignity as a witch. Her amber eyes were fixed on the murky glow of the blade and she closed her eyes. The woman wanted to curse her, bones deep, soul deep.

A hand climbed to her throat, choking her, as the dark witch let her weight fall on her body, starting to carve the first letter. Her mouth opened for another scream as her blood started to flow, staining the beautiful persian carpet of the Malfoys.

On her right arm, turned and hidden from view, the stone vibrated strangely, pulsing deep inside her flesh as a warm and beating heart.

 _ _You must not bleed...__

The stone started to burn against her cold body. It was like a ball of fire, and it extended to all of her, making her body feel like a house caught in a fire.

 _ _You must absolutely not approach death...__

The blade was like poison in her veins, it was going to kill her, and the stone seemed to be fighting it. It seemed angered by it.

 _ _It will keep you alive far from the danger, guiding you to a place where no harm could come and get you, where you would be protected, maybe even in another world. I couldn't tell you where, no one can...__

This didn't seem so bad, thought the witch, as her eyes closed themselves to the pain again. This didn't seem so bad to be protected for once...When she opened her eyes there was no pain, no Malfoy manor, no crazy witch and no luxurious furnitures. Only the night sky and it was as if she was falling through it. Falling and falling...But to where ? To what ground would she land ? She couldn't tell...And right now nobody could except for the stone planted deep in her wrist, vibrating with power.

§§§

"Who saw you ?"

The young slytherin shook violently as he heard the silky and calm voice of his master. Nothing was more frightning than this tone. Not even the forbidden forest surrounding him with its darkness, awful silence and invisible gaze fixed on them.

No the real danger wasn't in the forest, nor in the creatures who made themselves at home in it. The danger was in the man before him and in his eyes, as black as the midnight sky above them. Tom Riddle was dangerous. Of course he was, it was why he, the only heir of the Nott family, had joined him to begin with. It was because this wizard was only a man by appearance. And a very perfect one indeed. His face was beyond common beauty, and seemed to embody an ideal which shouldn't have existed. All of him, from his voice to the tip of his hair seemed to have been made to enchant.

But beauty was only a veil to his cruel and rotten nature. The tip of Riddle's wand encountered his chin digging painfully into it as he was forced to look into his eyes.

"I didn't teach you this spell for you to exercise on a student in plain sight...Dumbledor is already wary of me, and if you attract attention this is the whole group __and me__ who will be put in an...uncomfortable situation. So I will repeat one last time : Who. Saw. You ?"

"I...I don't know my lord. I only heard steps, but I think I also saw a tie...It may be a gryffindor, a gryffindor male student."

Several noises of discontentment ran through the crowd surrounding them. All around them in a circle were the wealthiest and most gifted Slytherins from fourth to seventh year. All joined Riddle either enchanted by him or by his skills, by his terrific, nightmarish power and its dark promises.

Riddle sighted, straightening himself and turning his wand between his long fingers. He passed a hand into his black and thick hair and smiled, of this charming and ever so polite smile of his.

"Now that is unfortunate", he finished by saying, pronuncing each word in a slow and detached manner "Now what shoud I do, with you ? Have you got an idea, gentlemen ?"

He turned his head to the side, his gaze falling to his most trusted men. Orion Black and Abraxas Malfoy looked sightly bored by the situation but a strange and sadistic light appeared in Ignatus Lestrange's eyes. But before the wizard could make his wicked idea known, the sound of something heavy crashing into the water alerted them.

They all looked in the direction of the black lake who flowed from the back of Hogwart's castle to the depths of the forest. Whispers ran through crowd of young men and Riddle raised his wand making them all cease with this simple gesture.

"Black." he simply said.

Orion Black raised an eyebrow but didn't discuss the hidden order. He pulled his wand out of his pocket, bowed and went to the direction of the noise. All of them waited for Black to return and it is only after several minutes that the voice of the heir made itself heard.

"My Lord...I think you must come and see this."

A rictus twisted the full lips of the dark young wizard as he joined his follower, the rest of the students following him with measured and uncertain steps. Teignous Nott sighted as three other students posted themselves wordlessly on his sides, guarding him for the return of their lord.

As Tom Riddle arrived to the side of Orion Black, he saw her. A young woman completely drenched was making her way out the lake crawling, coughing and spitting water. What was that ? No wizard would be foolish enough to swin in the dark lake, the creatures there were known to be as unfriendly as they could toward any other living presence. And she couldn't be a creature from the lake...She looked too human, too alive. She was in fact the healthiest person he ever saw, with golden skin and light brown hair falling into heavy soaked curls on her body.

Slowly the wizard pointed her wand on her but something stopped him. As she fell lying down, her arms went limp before her and on her wrist shone a stone which seemed to make one with her flesh. It was a dark shining stone, entrancing and of a priceless appearance. He knew this stone, just as every pureblooded men around him.

"The resurrection stone..." whispersed Lestrange, all anticipation of the upcoming torture now gone, replaced by an avid and hungry curiosity.

As the words were pronounced the young women opened her eyes, gulping the air as if she was still drowning, and her gaze met his. A flickered of emotions passed through her eyes : lack of understanding, fear, and then burning anger.

As he looked at her he felt himself shake under the glee which was running through him. The stone of resurrection, the ultimate weapon against death, the embodiement of immortality was a woman and she fell from the sky to land just at his feet. The stone was a woman in all her glorious goldenness, in all her just and righteous anger, and it was as if nobody was alive beside her. As if pure life was coursing her veins and shining through her eyes.

Tom Riddle was often misunderstood by his followers because of his interest, even obsession with death. If death alimented all of his reseaches, it wasn't because he liked it but because he hated it. Death had taken his mother away from him, and her disgusting embrace seemed to follow him everywhere. His desire to possess life, and to possess it eternally was so strong than it consummed him.

And here life was, coughing at his feet, and he never wanted to possess something as bad as he wanted to possess her.

To be continued...


	2. The witch, The Infirmary and The Heir

**Chapter II**

 **The infirmary, the witch and the Gaunt's heir**

A whirlwind of hushed voices made Hermione wake from her state of confused drowsiness. Her blurry sight acclimated slowly to the dim lighting of the room, distinguishing several adult figures around the bed she layed in. White sheets were surrounding her and an oil lamp was burning on the table beside her bed, illuminating the faces above her.

A red-headed and bearded wizard looked in a very suspicious way a dark-haired young man with devastatingly beautiful features. The young one was dressed as a student, the light making the silver and green crest on his chest shine. Beside him was a woman dressed as a nurse with her hands raised as if to try and bring peace in the conversation. And just at her left was a chubby man who looked in his thirties dressed almost entirely in green and looking at the young student as thought he held the sun in his elegant hands.

Soon she could make sense of the noises coming from their mouths and grap the subject of their conversations.

"So you are saying that a group of your fellow housemates dwelled by themselves in the forbidden forest, at midnight, and found this young woman in the lake. And that they came searching for you in your patrol to inform you of their discovery...And of course you never fail to be present in times of danger, what a fortunate coincidence Mr. Riddle." said the red-headed wizard, his blue eyes clouded by wariness and suspiscion weighning his speech.

Riddle...Riddle...This name was familiar, but in the fog of her thoughts, it seemed she couldn't grasp it's sense.

"A fortunate coincidence, indeed" answered the student in a soft voice, his low and charming voice falling on his audience like a satin coat. "It seems that sometimes the foolishness of several individuals can save a life..."

"Yes, we can all be thankful that Tom was, as always, accomplishing his duty seriously" intervened the chubby man, putting a paternal hand on the student broad shoulder.

"Of course we are, Professor Slugorn" the young nurse almost sighed, her eyes lingering on the elegant and young figure beside her. "Aren't we, Professor Dumbelor ?"

The red-headed wizard touched his beard in a thoughtful way, staying silent as he looked at the student through his glasses. "As we always are, Merry, as we always are..." He sighed before continuing "But now something must be done with this young witch, she is not a student, and we know nothing about her."

"Concerning this issue..." cutted the young male student with his usual soft and charming voice. "It seems that one of my housemate recognized some family traits in her, I think with the proper investigation, we could find this young lady identity, and maybe even her birth family."

"Oh what a wonder it would be !" exclaimed Merry clapping her hands together as she turned to look at the Professor Slugorn. "I don't know the reason, but it seemed that my heart was filled by distress just at thought that this young lady would be lost in this dangerous world by herself. There is just something about her, I can't put it into words, something just...precious."

At this words, the young man smiled, and his smile was such a pleasure for the eyes that no one in the room dared to glance away from it. "Precious is the word..." he simply said, turning dexterously a dark ring around his right hand finger.

"I am curious to know the name of the housemate claming recognition for such a precious young lady..." declared in a calm and cold voice the Professor Dumbledor.

"It is Damocles Rowle, Professor" was the young man composed reply.

"Damocles Rowle !" interfered the professor Slugorn with enthousiasm. "What a fierce and excellent student ! And what a prestigious and splendid family the Rowle are, we can trace their lign for more than two centuries ! They didn't give birth to female child for decades...What a marvelous addition she would make, an absolute gem."

At the word gem, Riddle smiled again and tried to hide it behind an elegant hand. Hermione caught a glimpse of the ring he was wearing, a black stone was shining on it, emiting a strange, hypnotic and dark glow, a glow that seemed to have an echo in her...The stone on her arm pulsed and she let out a surprised sound when she saw that her wrist was covered by a heavy and large bracelet of pure gold.

"She has woken !" said Merry in a relieved tone.

Hermione looked at the faces above her, all seemed closer now, hovering with an avid curiosity. The student seemed more calm and composed, having a polite and genuine expression adorning his perfect features. Only his eyes were betraying him, his dark, dark eyes, were afflame with an hunger so powerful that it was frightening. She wanted to divert her eyes from his but couldn't, as if a magnetic force was keeping her from it.

"My dear child..." said the Professor Slughorn "What an adventure you must have gone through...Do you know how you came to us ?"

How she came ?

 _How dare you look at me like that..._

The Malfoy Manor.

 _Crucio !_

The pain...The blood...

 _The stone...It will keep you and far from danger, guiding you to a place where no harm could come and get you..._

Where did she came ?

"Where are we ?" she asked in a careful tone.

"Well my dear one, we are in Hogwarts' Hospital Wing. Does this name seem familiar to you ?"

Of course, it did. Hogwarts was more familiar to Hermione than her own name. But this room wasn't. Which was very strange...In 7 seven years of friendship with Harry Potter, the Hogwarts Hospital Wing was as common to her as her own dormity. But this one seemed...older, richer, and strangely even more magical. She lied into a bed of wood and not of metal, the light only came from oil lamp and candles and the walls were of plain stone. There was something about it...

She looked again at the faces above her. All were young, all so young...Her eyes fixed themselves on the Professor Dumbledor.

"And what day are we today ?"

"November 3rd, 1945, young lady."

Her hands fisted the cotton sheets as she tried to contain her dread and keep her expression in a neutral and tired state. But the truth was that no tiredness fell upon her, no pain either like all of her wounds had been healed during her short time of sleep. Anxiousness was the only uncomfortable emotion she felt, but it was turning in her stomach like a blade as understandment washed over her.

Young professors...Riddle...She turned her head so fast that she thought her neck would snap.

The light of the oil lamp, and the flames of the candles were caressing his face, flattering it with their glow and making its perfection almost uncomfortable for the person present in the room. Tom Marvolo Riddle...I am Lord Voldemort...

She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths as she was carefully analazing the situation. 1945...The stone had taken her in the past. The bloody thing had thought she would be safer in the period where all the death eaters pureblood families were all influential and where the worst men were freely walking on the earth. The thing must be defective...

She passed a shaking hand in her thick hair as she was trying to think. Think...Think...The stone couldn't be defective, but it was incredibly selfish and only thought of its own preservation and survival. It was old, very old magic which didn't obey any rules she knew and maybe which didn't obey with any rules but her own. But its magic was pure, unspoiled and powerful, and it couldn't be wrong with a matter as simple as its own preservation. So why would it think itself safe beside one of the most dangerous, if not the most dangerous wizard who came to life ?

She opened her eyes again and they fell in the dark gaze of Tom Riddle. Unless it was precisely for that. You had nothing to fear in the forest if you lived in the shadow of its most dangerous creature...Or what ? What else could it be ?

"Are you alright my dear ? She seems to have lost a bit of her colors, hasn't she ?"

"Of course she has, Professor !" intervened the nurse with emphasis. "Even though we don't know more as of now, I am sure the poor thing has gone through a lot to come to us...She has to be exhausted. Now shoo, let the lady have a little bit of air and privacy."

"Of course, Merry" answered the Professor Slughorn, his belly shaking with an excited and enthousiastic laugh. "Well, fellow comrades, let us take our leave and let the young one to a well deserved rest, the night will help us clear our head and we will investigate this affair by the light of tomorrow."

Hermione let herself fall back on the pillow, closing her eyes to escape form the lingering stares and not to have the temptation to look back in the this dangerously charming gaze that was currently burning her.

She felt the hands of Merry arranging the pillow behind her head as she said in a sing-song voice. "Well, here, little one, you can now sleep in peace. We will have all the time in the world to speak as the sun rise."

As her hands fisted the sheets, she wished for the first time for the sun to never rise again...

§§§

The Slytherin's common room was buzzing in excitement. No students present in the forest this night had gone back to their bed, and all were waiting for the arrival of their Lord, exchanging about what they had seen and its implication.

When the door opened and that Tom Riddle entered the room, the silence fell immediatly upon them. And all waited, almost shaking with greed at the young man calmly advanced, sitting on his usual place, crossing his legs before him, his wand turning lazily between his right hand's fingers.

Acturus Black was the first one to speak, falling to one knee, putting a hand on his heart in an elegant bowing gesture. "My Lord, did I see rightly what was on the arm of this woman ?"

A smile broke the face of Tom, and this smile had nothing of the charming, enchanting and composed one that could sometimes be seen dancing on his lips. This smile was a savage and frightening one, filled with greed and a joy so strong that it flirted dangerously with madness. All in the room held their breath for this smile was seldom seen on Riddle's perfect face, and was either the warning of an upcoming fit of madness, or of a discovery that would change the face of the world.

"You saw well Acturus...You saw well and you will be greatly rewarded for this. It is indeed the stone of resurrection which was shining on her arm. "

He let an heavy silence plan after his declaration and no one dared to utter a single whisper to interrupt it, all slaves to the words coming from the perfect red lips of their master.

"But" the young man continued "The woman isn't in possession of this stone...She is the stone."

Now whispers exploded in the room, each interrogating the other on the sense of what Riddle had just said. The dark-haired male raised a simple hand and the silence fell upon the room again . He passed a hand in his perfect and silky locks before saying in a voice heavy with greed. "This...isn't a matter which has happened before, my dear followers. And what we saw in this forest is history." He let another emphatic silence plan before continuing "As we all know there are three deathly hallows. The elder wand is known to have chosen number of masters, leaving each of them for a stronger one and leaving the previous one to death as a sentence for being weak or having lost. The cloak of invisibility passed in the Peverell family and to this day belongs to some of their descendents whose identity is unknown to this day. But the resurrection stone...It is the most mysterious, the most enchanting and precious of all, for Death has given to i control over the souls living in her realm, the ability of summon over souls...The ability of coming back from the dead, for one who has lost his life. Immortality in one word."

Some rapid gidiness and an excitement so strong that it was almost frantic shone into the eyes of the Slytherin's student as they drank each words coming from Tom's mouth. Each was carefully uttered, said with precision and the voice made them roll in the silence and over the purr coming from the fireplace like the most enchanting melody. "The one who has the stone has life in his hands and as a consequence, death has no power over him...But the end isn't there. No. It is said that other than a master, the hallows can choose a...receptacle, a body, to walk upon the earth and enlish their full power. For their materials of stone and wood incapacitate them and a human body mediator for their magic do not. As a consequence they can choose a body and...merge with it. Until they become one, until the body become all but an extension of them and of their magic. Imagine, just imagine it, not flesh and bones, not blood, but pure, unchanged, raw and primeval magic enclosed in flesh and liquid ambrosia enclosed in veins."

"You mean..." dared to intervene Acturus in a reverent tone. "That this woman is one with..."

"Yes Acturus. It is exactly what I am saying."

Racuous exclamations followed theses words and Damacles Rowle separated himself from the crowd all but falling on his knees before Tom. "But, my Lord, doesn't that make the girl the master of the stone ?"

A laugh escaped Tom, a mad, joyful laugh, strangely pitched and reasonnating in a sinister way on the walls of the common room. "That is the beauty of this affair ! The woman is not the master of the stone, The woman is now the stone, or we could even say that the Stone became a woman ! But this hallow, slytherins, this artefact, belong to the family of the Gaunt for now more than five centuries..." As he talked he rose slowly to his feets, raising in the same movement his right hand were on his index shone a dark ring. "I. I am the last heir of the Gaunt family, the last heir of Salazar, I am the rightful master of the stone !"

§§§

Hermione rose with the first rays of light of the day.

As she had grown accustomed to, she felt no tiredness, no heaviness, and her mind was perfectly clear. The memories of the night came crashing but this time, she didn't close her eyes to escape from them. She took deep breaths to steady herself and thought calmly.

She had already gone back through time with Harry...She had fought in a war...She wasn't weak. Never weak. She would survive this, she had always survived. At this thought her wrist let a wave of warmth flood over her and she hit it on the table before her, grimacing under the pain. The bloody thing, she wanted to destroy this bloody thing...She rosed her wrist abover her, looking at the gold cuff in a thoughtful way. Who putted that on her ? Whoever this was, he had seen the stone and wanted to make sure no one else saw it.

Noises close to the door made her rise in her bed, her hand searching for her wand before remembering where it was...Of course, the thing had taken her more than 4 decades back in time, but it hadn't thought of giving her her wand as a protection. Bloody thing...

The high-pitched voice of Merry made herself heard. "Well as charming of an attention as it is...I don't know yet if the girl has woken up and I wouldn't want to brutalise her..."

A silky voice covered her, invading the corridor before the door and coming through it as the most charming humming sound. "Please, Madam...I just...She looked so lost when I discovered her last night. I thought seeing a familiar face would soothe her...I couldn't forgive myself permitting her to feel the same distress as she felt. Can you understand me ?"

Hermione didn't had to guess to know who the voice belonged to. There was only one liar in the world who could make his illusions sound like the most sincere truth. She retreated to the head of the bed searching desperatly for some kind of weapon to use when her eyes fell on the tray of food on the nightstand close to her. She took the butter knife and quickly hid it into her close hand.

After another short exchange of sugar coated words from Riddle and some giggling from the nurse. The door opened and Merry entered followed closely by the student.

"Oh dear one ! I bring you a visitor, surely you remember Mr. Riddle, he is the young man you have to thank for being here. We can say he saved you last night !"

Saved by Lord Voldemort...She almost let out a huff but only pinched her lips, following each of his movement with guarded and attentive eyes. The nurse opened the curtains and the windows, putting some pillows in a better arrangement and fussing over some covers before saying in a happy voice "I let you in this young sir's capable hands my dear, just scream if you need me to come" she finished in a laughter.

And scream she would...The click of the closing door made her press the butter knife more firmly in her hand. For a moment, the young man didn't say anything and didn't move, then he took a chair and putted it in front of the bed before sitting on it, crossing his legs and looking every bit of a king on his trone in this school Infirmary.

Slowly he smiled and finished by talking in measured and perfectly pronounced words. His words came over her, caressing her skin like satin as they rang "You don't have to be afraid. I know what you are."

She smiled at his words, a dry and joyless smile as her eyes roamed over his figure. How easy it would be to be enchanted by him if she didn't know...She almost wished not to know, just to believe that she was finally safe. She pressed the butter knife harder. But this would be weakness...And even thought she felt herself shiver in fear before him, even thought her heart was pumping, she wouldn't weaken.

She looked right into his eyes before saying slowly "And I know what you are."

Surprise passed quickly in the dark orbs, and the lean body before her seemed to tense. She saw the man before her starting to transform, the smile disappearing, the eyes darkening. The air around them became heavy as if filled with electricity. He passed his thumb on his red lips as if to wipe its previous illusive smile. The rays of the sun illuminated him, making his skin shine like marble and his hair like silk, passing almost reverently on each perfectly symmetrical and regular feature. Under its ray, she saw that his eyes were of an obscure blue color, just like the unknown and bottomless depths of the sea. And just like them, they seemed to swallow the light of the room selfishly capturing it.

"Is that so ?" his voice hummed softly. And there was something in it, some kind of cold, almost ironic undertone. He rose from his seat and approached the bed with measured steps. As he reached the side of the bed, he leaned his long figure toward her, his face towering her and making her crane her neck to continue to look at him in the eyes. She fisted her palm harder, her grip on the knife strenghtening and soothing her as much as it could, as fear flooded in her veins.

 _"What was the most frightening thing about him ?" she remembered asking in a hushed voice to Ginny._

 _The red-headed had calmly raised her head toward her, there was no need of precision, both knew who they were talking about. The only one whose name they didn't dare to utter. The youngest Weasley let her eyes cloud with her memories as she said in an almost distant voice._

 _"Everything about him is frightning. And unnatural. It is as if by his sole presence he could make the air in the room vibrate, by his sole gaze, take it away from your lungs...And the worst, the worst thing is that I still don't know if I could resist his charms if I saw him in his past glory. Everything about him sing like an imperious spell, his perfection, his beauty, his voice...It is as if he was made to rule the earth, as if he belonged to the formidable kings of the past...And you want to obey him."_

Ginny was right, it was if a king was looming above her in all its glorious presence and even while calling all of her reason, all of her will, she was petrified. She couldn't move, couldn't breath, and she who had fighted against herself to keep looking in his eyes couldn't even think, or have the strenght to divert them now.

Before she could even think of retreating, his hand captured her cuffed wrist, gripping it tightly enough to make them let her knife fall on the ground. It fell, and the sharp noise of its descent rang through the heavy silence of the room.

"If you know...Then why did you thought of wounding your master with this knife, _hallow_ ?"

 _To be continued..._


	3. The witch, The Dungeons and The Beast

**Chapter III**

 **The Witch, The Dungeons and The Beast's wisdom**

As soon as the words fell from his lips, Hermione's blood turned to ice. _Master ?_

 _"The resurrection stone belonged to the heirs of Salazar Slytherin, the Gaunt family, for generations."_

 _"Are you saying that I am the master of this stone now, professor ?"_

 _"No, I am saying that you are the stone."_

No...Her eyes fell on the hand constricting her wrist and on the ring shining on it. The Gaunt's ring...

 _"The resurrection stone belonged to the heirs of Salazar Slytherin, the Gaunt family, for generations."_

It wasn't the moment to panic. If there was something she was capable of, it was to keep her head cool no matter the situation. She had to think, think...Under his touch, the stone was burning her, heating up like a furnace and making her mind cloud. He didn't know everything, he didn't know she was muggleborn and he had no reason to kill or hurt her. He didn't even know how the stone merged inside of her body, when it happened and clearly didn't know if she was more woman than hallow. She could use it to her advantage, if he thought of her not as a person but as the living stone of life, he would have no reason to hurt her, or to be wary of her actions.

She didn't know the power he had on the stone, and this clearly wasn't a situation to discover it. She had to be careful as she was walking on thin air...Manipulating wouldn't be a smart choice for she knew his trickster eyes could see through any lies. What would soothe him ? What would he like to hear ?

"My apologies" she said softly, more composed than she would have believed herself capable of sounding "But self-preservation and survival are my primary fonctions, as a consequence I prefer to be armed in prevision of danger. This knife wasn't to harm you in particular, merely to defend myself if I was required to."

The wizard didn't let go of her arm, his dark blue eyes fixed on her as he arched a perfect eyebrow, analyzing her. He then merely turned her wrist and pushed the gold bracelet toward her palm, uncovering the stone, his eyes caressing it. His tumb caressed her skin before stopping on the stone and Hermione felt it burn even harder, to the point that she felt drops of sweat falling on her temples. His touch passed from aggressive to soft with an ease that was frightening, but wariness countinued to cloud his eyes.

"Do you recognize me now ?" he asked in a silky voice, and it rolled and rang in the room as the most hypnotizing sound.

She searched for the familiar cruelty on his face, the sadistic twist of lips, the paleness and the nightmarish features...But none were there. This young man was far too handsome, in an unforgiving and intimidating way. Just like the burning sun it hurt to look at him in the eyes, just like it, he was blinding and crushing. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Even his smell was enchanting, the smell of burning wood and cold winter nights, a clean smell like untouched ice. But there was something in the air, something that made the hairs on her arms raise, just as they did when the sky charged itself with electricity before the worst storm.

She opened her eyes and fell into the depths of his. A darkness inhabited them, a depth she couldn't reach and hoped she never would. Some kind of greatness and power, strong to the point that it was just...monstrous.

"Yes, I do recognize you." she breathed.

§§§

"How marvelous ! What a wonder ! What an amazing thing is the finding of one's family !"

She almost couldn't hear the voice of the Professor Slughorn as her eyes took in the figure in front of her. The man before her was huge, tall like a giant, with large shoulders and hands large enough to be at least three times the size of her head. He had blond hair falling around his face in messy curls and his features were hard and stone-like. This crushing physical appearance was just as familiar as theses cold black eyes...She remembered the sadistic gleam in them as his death eater's descendant was chasing behind them on their run. Rowle was his name...

Beside him Tom Riddle adressed a desarming smile to the Professor Slughorn and the Professor Dumbledor, a hand comfortably put on the shoulder of his housemate. The day was advanced already and the dimming sun was caressing his perfect face like an old friend would.

"Yes...The Rowle are particularly known for their loyalty to their blood..." slowly said the Professor Dumbledor, his eyes covering with ice when he put them on the tall student.

"Well, it is every man's duty protect his blood, isn't it professor ?" intervened the rough voice of Damocles Rowle. As he looked at the older wizard, there was no diplomacy and no pleasanteries, his animosity was offered in plain sight, and his voice striked like acid. Riddle's hand seemed to tighten on his shoulder and his sultry voice rang in an always even tone in the room.

"I would rephrase this statement by saying that family is a precious thing. And that the Rowle are known to be fierce protectors of precious gems."

Hermione felt like this sentence was particularly adressed to her. But she didn't dare to look at the young male who uttered it. She didn't want to. Even if she did, she was all but petrified before the strange sight that Rowle's black eyes offered. She remembered them cold and cruel, she remembered the evil glee dancing in them but now...She almost couldn't recognize them. Swiming in the dark depths was fascination and something like...respect.

"Do you recognize your brother, child ?" asked the Professor Dumbledor in a much softer tone as he was looking at her with his shining blue eyes. Even with his red hair, smoother features and shorter beard, he was still the same as she remembered him. The same bright eyes, half-moon glasses and excentric taste in clothes...The same kind light in his smile rising to his eyes and making them curve ever so softly. And she remembered that with his same shining eyes and kind attitude he told them that Harry was the only one who could save them, that light would shine in this dark place and at the same time planning her friend's righteous death.

So this was what happened when you gave him your trust. So this was it...This is what he had done with her respect, with the life she had put in his hands. Theses eyes...The exact same ones had been put on her as she cried in anxious anguish for her friend destiny, this comforting, _knowing_ eyes...He always knew.

How dare he look at her with this same eyes...She felt her hand balling into fists and anger cloud her gaze. Never would she believe men like him again. It was because of men like him that she was in this situation...It was because of men like him that...

"I am no child. I was never given the chance to be one. " She coldly said, and her voice was strangely similar to the tall man's acid one before her.

§§§

The day passed and it was deep in the night when Hermione first heard the voice.

It was a soft voice, an entrancing voice, echoing in her head, infiltrating it like the most delicate invasion.

 _Do you hear me, little one ?_

The witch opened her eyes to the white ceiling of Hogwart's Hospital Wing. She didn't answer it, her eyes searching for its owner in the dark.

 _Of course, you hear me. How could you not ? We belong to the same master, don't we ? I know what you are. Child, but not. Witch, but not. The stone of Life, the Living Stone, the Gaunt's Heirloom._

She rose in her bed as the stone of her wirst was warming up in a soft, gentle way. She searched again for a figure in the dark of the room before asking in a hushed voice. "Who are you ?"

 _A Creature of the Old, hidden in the ground. I do not age. My hunger is feared and my eyes avoided with dread. I do not walk and my steps do not leave marks on the ground. I have no ears, but hear. I was created in the time of glory and pure magic and know stories older than ink and paper. Who am I ?_

Hermione furrowed her brows. Old. Do not walk...Crawl ? Under the ground...Dungeons. The same master...Her eyes widened and she retreated mechanicaly towards the head of her bed as the answer imposed itself clearly in her head. The beast of Slytherin ! The basilisk was still alive.

 _Are you afraid, little one ?_

The witch straightened her back, tightening her fists against her sheets as her gaze hardened. "I am not afraid. I know you too."

 _Do you_ , _now ?_

Her second year came back to her memory, with all the hours she passed in the library searching on the beast, on basilisks. She knew all books had to offer on theses creatures, from the way they hatched to the color of each of their scales. It was thanks to the words she left them that Harry was able to find it, to kill it. The last time she had seen it, it was dead, layed down on the ground of the chambers as they collected his teeths and venom.

 _You think you know, but you don't. Out of space, out of time. Lost. Ignorant. Afraid. You do not know how to leave and you do not want to stay. You want to survive but you do not know how. You do not even know what you are..._

She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the voice. Snakes were manipulative creatures, they couldn't be trusted. But how could she even understand it ? She didn't heard the hissing sounds of parseltongue, and neither did she made them. The creature had said that they had the same master. Was it because of it ? Because they were both heirlooms for the same family ?

 _You are afraid because you do not know. You are lost because you do not know. Little one, you won't survive here without knowledge. I could give you knowledge._

Don't answer. Don't answer, she repeated herself. It is a vicious and deadly creature who only answers to madmen. But even knowing that, she could feel the words reaching her, echoing like truth in her ears and making her heart swell with curiosity. She wanted to know. She had always hated not knowing. Ignorance was weakness, and she was not weak.

 _No one could bring you the knowledge I offer you. For I am older than books, older than the stone and older than this castle. And you have no one to ask...All are unknown to you, or untrustful. Poor, poor dear...I could teach you, make you understand, if you came to me._

"How do I know you are not lying ? How do I know you are not an ennemy ?" she finished by asking, her heart thundering in her chest.

 _What interest do I have to lie to you ? What interest do I have to hurt you ? You are a Stone. An Heirloom. A reminescence of the Old Times lost in a world you do not understand._

"And what interest do you have to help me ?"

 _I have interests helping you. You could not understand. But if you come and see me, you would. I would explain it to you..._

She should refuse. The creature was being vague and shady, and she had no weapon, no wand, nothing to defend herself. But at the same time...She couldn't die, could she ? Her eyes fell on the stone on her arm. If she was in real danger...wouldn't the stone bring her in another world, another time, where she would be safer ? Wouldn't it benefit her, then ? She had nothing to fear. She feared nothing. She lived many things, and all showed her that monsters were rarely the ones we thought.

She raised in her bed angrily taking off the golden bracelet and throwing it as far as she could. She looked at the dark stone on her arm, shining of soft and entrancing glow. Cursed thing...It was the only thing which could take her far from here but it didn't want it. And if it didn't want to, she had to force it...

Think, She had to think...The artefact reacted to danger. It's only desire was self-preservation, and it used its powers to protect itself, protect her. She had to put herself in danger. She had to approach death, then the thing would react.

So, She had nothing to fear, and she had even everything to gain. Knowledge.

She tossed her covers on the side and let her bare feet touch the ground of Hogwart's Hospital Wing.

"I will come."

§§§

Girl's bathroom was every bit like she remembered it. Dark, cold...Haunted. She took a deep breath and advanced in the room. The floor felt icy under her bare feets and her toes curled as she stopped in front of one of the sink. This one was different from the other, it had more dark ornements, and as she bend over it, she felt a strange breeze coming from behind it, making her curls tickle her cheeks. It was this one, the one Harry had talked to.

She couldn't open it, she knew she couldn't, she wasn't parseltongue. Magic also wouldn't work, she didn't have a wand and Salazar's heirs were sure to have thought of protective spells to prevent persons from others bloodlines to enter. But she didn't believe in limitations. She wanted it to open and she would open it. One of the sink was completely ruined and its pipes were scattered on the floor and dangling from the wall in the most pathetic way. She took one in her hands, in a very calm and detached manner, circling it with tight hands. She raised it above her head and fixed her gaze on the sink hiding the entrance of the Chambers.

She smashed the metallic stick on the bathroom sink a first time. White procelain fell into pieces on the floor, water coming in strong gush, splashing her face. She pushed her wet hair backwards, gritted her teeths and hit it again. And again, until her arms were numbed and white porcelains scattered at her feets. Water covered the entire floor, coming in strong and jerky gush from the ruined sink.

She dried her face with an almost angry fist as she looked at the entrance behind the broken mass of white. The tunnel...It was as dark as she remembered it. She slowly lowered herself down until she was sat on the edge of it, her legs shivering against the cold and humid stone. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage and letting herself fall down.

§§§

The Chamber of Secrets was a strange room indeed. Carved in stone, bathed in a greenish and unnatural light, that didn't came from the fire of candles or of any man-made lamp. It was empty of any furniture and the humid and cold stone had the smooth texture of floors that were seldom grazed by human feet.

But there were no monsters waiting for her. Nothing but the face of Salazar Slytherin, carved in the stone, the empty and dark holes of his eyes fixed upon her. She looked around her, trying to find the beast when a voice rang in her head.

 _What have we here ?_

She turned looking at the entrance of the tunnel. Her wet hair hit her back like a whip as she furrowed her brows. No one was there.

She tightened her fist around her metallic bar. "It is I."

 _Of course it is you, hallow, I knew you would came. I knew you find a way to enter, to come to me..._

Hermione stilled, almost letting her stick go as she heard a slick and heavy body slide on the ground behind her. If it wasn't so heavy she wouldn't have heard it for all its movement were made with some kind of silent and deadly elegance.

Her heart was beating so fast in her chest that it hurt her. "You said you would teach me, if I came."

Hermione looked at the stone on her arm, but the artefact was as peacefully warm as it would be in the bed of Hogwart's Hospital Wing. The bloody thing was the most deffective trincket she ever came across...

Slowly, ever so slowly she felt cold and smooth scales against her body. And as she turned, she saw the massive body of the snake, coiling around her, surrounding her in a single ring, but big enough for it to arrive to her shoulders. The head of the snake stopped in front of her face, its large yellow and poisonous eyes gazing in hers. She remembered theses eyes, this dreaful venomous eyes who caught her stare in the reflection of her mirror. The only difference was that now, her body didn't still and fall like a rag doll on the ground and she was just lively as ever.

The voice of the creature's rang even more clearly in her head echoing loudly and strongly.

 _What do you want to know, little hallow ?_

"Why was I chosen by the stone ? Why did it have to choose a body ? And why are the Gaunt the master of it ?"she asked quickly and breathlessly.

 _Shhh...Calm down, little hallow. Listen to me, I will teach you. For the hallows to choose a body, it has to be pure and powerful, it has to be fresh blood and magic, but each has particular desires. The wand only desire strenght, and isn't interested with merging but more in finding a master who can bring it glory. If it can't then, the wizard die. The cloak only want to protect its master and is peaceful. But the stone is fierce and fleeting like life. It is vain and selfish and wants to be adored and cherished._

"What...do you mean ?"

 _It is very simple. The wand was created in violence and exist to fight, overcome and reign. The stone... was created from a desperate desire, the desire for a love which didn't exist anymore, to find cherished ones who have already been taken. We could say that it is the artefact of impossible desires, and many men fell crazy while trying to use it. It appears in world of chaos, when it is desired, desperately so._

The witch was drinking each word from the basilisk as everything fell like puzzle pieces in her head. It was selfish and only wanted its safety, and it was vain and wanted to be desired and cherished. Lord Voldemort...spent all of his life searching for life, for immortality. And no one loved and respected magic, old magic as much as he did. No one _desired_ it so.

"Evil thing...It is mad."

 _Mad...Mad, yes. All are mad, and no one is. Evil, you say ? Dear one, this Stone is only a reflection of the wizarding world and its ruthlessnes. Did you not know, what a cruel place it is ?_

The light of Bellatrix knife came to her mind. The insults came too. The kind eyes of Her cherished professor as he was sending them to slaughter and the masked all ready to execute children without any remorse. Yes this place was so cruel, that it seemed to have waited for a man like Riddle.

"Yes..." She said slowly "I do know."

And, as she spoke, she felt the tail of the beast tightening almost imperceptibly around her, so much that it seemed like she couldn't move anymore. She looked at the entrance of tunnel and the Beast so it.

 _Do you want to leave me already ? Do you not have anymore questions ? I know many things. Things from the time of Kings and Greatness. When the land of England was still known in the World of Magic and not pitied._

She had to leave. This was becoming tricky. The stone wasn't recognizing her as in danger and she had the impression that the beast wouldn't let her go so easily.

"I feel like I overstayed my welcome. I thank you for sharing your wisdom."

 _But I could still teach you-_

"I must go, now."

Silence answered her, before the Creature spoke again. Slowly, threathningly.

 _I do not think so. I waited. I waited a very long time. And it is so dark and lonely here. So very lonely...Loneliness is an insidious thing, isn't it ? It digs, digs and digs a hole in you. Worst than hunger. Even sleep doesn't make it go away. But you listen so well, little hallow, I am just going to keep you. I have jewels hidden in the ground, I'll orn you and cherish you. Shhh...Don't worry little hallow, I'll protect you._

§§§

Tom found himself coming closer and closer to the Infirmary as he was patrolling. A strange desire slept in his gut. He wanted to see it again. See her again. The stone. His stone.

She was the first, the first being to belong to him, and him only. And something deep inside stirred, and coveted her warmth, her liveliness and her eyes on him. _I do recognize you._

When she said this, he belived her. It was as if she saw him, as if she _knew_ him, as if she had already met him a long time ago. She saw him, knew who he was. But she couldn't run from him. For she was his. He already felt like he had searched for her, in his dreams, in another world, tracking her, following her like a shadow, never quite grasping her.

Such pride, such anger shining in her eyes. He wanted it. It was if she was the only person alive in all dead world. And with her, life would be in his hands. Just by the thought, he could feel them shaking, as he pushed his hair backwards and straightened his tie. He had to calm down but glee was coursing in his blood, and he hadn't felt this raw joy since he had known he was a wizard.

She would be the most precious...The most cherished...He had to hide her. No one else could know what she was. Already his followers knew, and he let them, for he knew that it would build their devotion toward him. Now they really understood that he had the power of life and death over them, and over anybody. They felt like they were blessed and that she was a sign of Heaven's favor toward their mission. With her he would not die, and with her he could bring back to life any of them according to his desires.

But if more wizards knew they would try and steal her from him. His fists tightened. He couldn't let it be possible, but as a student, he had to be very careful. Slowly he pushed the door of the Hospital Wing, it was deep in the night and Merry had gone to sleep in her quarters close by. The hallow had to be in her bed. But as his eyes searched for her in the darkness, he found it empty.

All colors left his face, and dread filled him like never before. No...Where was she...? He had just found her. But just as he thought of it, a voice rang in his head, a familiar hissing voice.

 _I am just going to keep you. I have jewels hidden in the ground, I'll orn you and cherish you. Shhh...Don't worry little hallow, I'll protect you._

And for the first time in years, Tom Riddle ran.

 _To be continued..._


	4. The witch, The Lake and The Sun

_Hello after a while ! I thank you all for all your lovely reviews, favs and follows you don't imagine how much they mean ! I hope you like it !_

 **CHAPTER IV**

 **The witch, The lake and The Sun**

In all of her short life, Hermione Granger lived through many strange and frightening nights.

Dark the night was, dark her dreams were, and dreaded was the coming morning.

The creature had wanted to keep her, keep her in the obscurity of the caves. It had taken her in the depths of Salazar Chambers, in places where time had stopped and where the light could only exist in memory.

There, the only light came from piles of golds and jewels scattered in golden pyramids. She had asked the creature how it came in possession of such a tresor. And it admitted his taste for collecting, and its love for shining things, things just like the stone on her arm, but never as pretty, never as entrancing as this dark gem anchored in her flesh.

Like many nights, Hermione had been afraid. But for the first time, she had been alone.

Being alone in the dark was the only thing she felt her heart couldn't bear. So she compelled the basilisk to stay with her voice, asking it questions and accepted to be taught by the old beast.

And in this horrid dreams, between cruel tales and stories of the old, rolling on its fork tongue, she found the most terrifying of the truth.

§§§

Tom Riddle had lived through many frightening nights.

His entire life would appear to some as a succession of nightmares. And not to be swallowed by them, he became their master, weaving their scenario and molding the dark dreams to his liking.

Darkness was not unknown to him, neither was loneliness, and as a consequence, the dreadful atmosphere of Salazar Slytherin's was a comforting familiarity to him.

 _As he penetrated in its den, the deepest part of the Chambers, he saw it, the Creature, surrounding a pile of gold and above it, her, the stone. She was asleep or unconscious above it, hers wirsts adorned with gold engraved bands, and in her wild curls pins made of jewels rested, never seeming more in their place than here. With her golden skin and brown curls, she seemed to be the only light in the room._

The chamber's beast was no beast, for he had already met monsters, and none of them had poisonous eyes, a forked tongue and immense teeths. True monsters knew how to smile, and sported the most human face, they blended into commonness and hided their wickedness behind blunt nails and teeths.

 _"Issssn't it fitting ?" The creature spoke, its eyes never leaving the feminine figure above her tresor. "You left me alone more than a year since you last called me. Since you last closed the chambers. You grew up master. You became more handsome. But I couldn't see it, here in the dark."_

As he held her, walking in the corridor, he felt his mind put itself at rest.

He could always levitate her, but he didn't want to. Often she stirred in her sleep, turning her head, and beating the air with her legs. Fighting something, trying to escape it. As if even in her sleep she tried to run, to escape him. And even through her dreams he would search for her, run after her and grasp her.

 _"Be careful, Master. Many men became mad for the Stone. I understand it now. There was so much light in her gaze...So much light, that for a moment, this place didn't seem so dark."_

It was the first time he heard it in the voice of such a mighty creature. Desperation.

 _"I enjoy speaking to her" continued the creature. "She wasn't afraid to look into my eyes. As if she had already met my gaze before. If you let her come back to me sometimes, I would protect her. I could teach her again, she listens so well. When I told her how lonely I was, she looked at me like she understood me. She then sat and listened to me, and even fell asleep, with me. I'll give her back, but let her come back to me sometimes master._

He tightened his hold, and she stopped moving, her head dangling from neck. Her skin seemed to shine like gold, and and her hair like copper, wetting his arm and tickling his hand. And just like that, the obscure corridor and the night gloom just didn't seem so dark anymore.

§§§

When Hermione woke up from her obscure dreams, the night was gone but she was yet again in an unknown place. The ceiling was of a sophisticated and cream color, and around her the covers were softer than anything she had ever been into. Green and silver surrounded her, and in a discret and elegant way the Slytherin crest was drawn on various places of the walls. The room was wide and open, the furnitures made of an almost black wood, and on the ebony floor rested expensive carpets made on the model of persian ones and whoses intricates drawings moved, floating on it. A snake moved from its place and stopped in front of her, his deep red tongue coming out of his mouth.

She looked at it for a moment before the events of the night came to her mind again. The basilisk, the darkness, the tunnel...She had fallen asleep there, listening to it and to its tales of a magical world who had already passed. And still his hissing words followed her and rang like truths in her mind.

 _Tell me little hallow, why do the Sun dwell in the darkness of the Sky ?_

She raised a tired hand to her forehead. How did she came here ? She only remembered her dreams. Dreams of a shadow running after her, searching for her, grasping her...Had the shadow found her yet ?

 _Because he is pleased with being the sole light of the world. He does not like the darkness, he does not like the cold. He merely uses them as a canvas to paint his glory through flames. Some find him vain and cruel and imagine a peaceful and cool sky without his ruthless light. But they forget that without his cruel fire our sky would not have a purpose or a sense, and we would see no sun or stars. The Sun is the master of the Sky._

Hermione gripped the door's handle, getting out of the room. She then went down the stairs, her eyes tiredly taking the dark green colored tapestry and the argent colored ornaments on the wall. The stairs gave on what looked like...A common room. Slytherin's Common Room ? Even in the daylight, some kind of darkness inhabited it, and the Common room's fireplace was roaring with strangely cold looking flames.

She found her heart clenching at this sight. The day was finaly here but everything was still cold and dark and even the fire gave no warmth. She was so sick of darkness. In front of it were luxurious sits of dark green color and several students scattered into little groups, but all stopped their discussion and turned to her as soon as her footsteps were heard on the marble stairs.

What a sight she had to be before them she thought with a bitter smile. Her hair were still drenched, about as much as her hospital gown, and they fell on her back and before her eyes heavily. In comparison, the members of the young group before her were just as perfect as young nobles should be. With their perfectly ironed clothes and and combed hair, her eyes traveled to the group of girls and to their artistically styled vintage curls framing doll-like face. But just like the fire, theses powdered face gave no warmth, no light, and something dark was roaring in their youthful gaze.

She slowly pursued her descent, determined to leave this awful place and return to the hospital Wing. As she passed, her wet and bare feet almost curling at the contact of the carpet, a feminine voice rose.

"It seems that the stray has left its Master's room..."

Hermione stopped immediately and slowly turned to the girl who had just talked. She had the most intricate updo, her blond hair framing her pale face in a lovely way. Blond...Her face was just like the female sneering one of an all too familiar Slytherin. Weren't they the same ? Spoiled. Ignorant. Contemptuous.

She saw another female student trying to shush the one who had just talk as she continued "What else would you want me to call her ? She was found wandering in the Forbidden Forest like a savage beast and she doesn't even have a wand...How can we even be sure that she is a civilized witch ?"

Hermione felt her fists tighten as she looked at the girl. Of course, this noble pureblooded witch didn't respect her. People like her never did. In the place of weariness, a sudden wave of anger started seeping through her blood like boiling water, humming inside her and filling her from the tip of her hair to her toes. Often she had felt this anger, this righteous anger in front of the living embodiements of her life's injustice. Not a witch enough. Not a muggle. A freak. Not even worth a look. Disgusting to touch. All of the insults thrown to her since she was eleven years old seemed to flood her mind and the golden bracelets felt like shackles above the burning stone on her wirst. The stone was oozing and dreeping its dark energy in and out of her, whispering obscure and unintelligible things.

 _The stone is vain._

Of course, such a vain, vain thing would hate to be despised. But at this moment, the witch hated it too. She didn't want to breath and suppress it, she didn't want to count to ten and control it. She had always repressed this anger through her life and she didn't want to anymore. After all what was there to lose ? She didn't have anything anymore. Her pride was the only thing she had left, and the day where she would let be stomped on by this girl's rotten feet hadn't come yet.

The blond witch before her rose a perfectly plucked eyebrow as she asked "My, my...What's with this look ?"

Hermione straightened and kept her eyes on the witch. And just like that, her fist flew into the powdered face harder than it ever had. The satisfaction coursed her when she felt the bones break. From this point everything happened really quickly, Hermione felt a young man behind her trying to restreign her as the young lady female companions where rushing to help her.

She should have stopped there. She wanted to stop there. But the anger flowing through her was burning even harder. She hadn't proven to them. She hadn't showed them how wrong it was to look at her like that. She fiercely elbowed the student restraining her, stepping on his foot and headbutting him violently before running toward the girl again. Her friends turned towards her with high-pitched screams, drawing their wands at her. Before they had the time to pronounce a word she kicked one in the stomach and gripped the other by the hair throwing her on the ground with rage.

The Common Room was dead silent, and the eyes of its students fixing her with a burning gaze. No one uttered even a whisper as they were waiting for her next move.

Hermione slowly looked at the three wands on the ground and bent over to pick them. She approached the girls. "You can insult me...But here I am. And here you are. I, the wandering savage, sent you, the civilized witch on the ground without even using a wand. The best thing about it, is that the fact that I am a wandering savage with no wand doesn't have any importance anymore. The only thing important is that you are on the ground and that I am still standing up."

She looked at the wands for a long moment before taking them in her two hands, and breaking them over her knee. She tossed the remaining at the girls and raised her brows in a mocking way.

"And the saddest thing is that without theses little sticks you, dear perfectly civilized witches, aren't worth anything anymore. But that even without it, I. Am. Still. Standing. Up."

The witch turned her heels and stopped before the others Slytherins, who had silently massed themselves behind her to see. She furrowed her brow and said drily "Move."

Ever so slowly, they made way for her, and in their eyes was exactly what she had desired. Respect. As she left the common room, the stone was burning on her in a content and warming way, as if for the first time, they understood each other.

§§§

"Where. is. She ?"

"I am sorry my Lord, things happened so quickly and she just escaped me..."

"How can a young woman with no wand present so much difficulty to guard tell me ?" Tom Riddle all but hissed, his handsome features darkening quickly as his grip on his wand was tightening.

Eugene Travers was almost flustered as he said in a low tone "She was hitting other girls in the room and I tried to stop her but she...hit me. In the muggle way. She was gone before I could collect myself. "

" _Legimens."_

The scene appeared bright and clear in the mind of Tom. He saw her living the Prefect's Room, and going down the stairs. And then he saw Eleonora Tripe, the grandniece of Magenta Black née Tripe as she liked to recall it, questionning her degree of civilisation in a less than polite way.

And then, her, The stone, whoses eyes burning with anger seemed to burn right through his mind. How magnificient was her anger, how rich was her violence. She hit the witches as if she was in a war, as if it was a battle to survive. There was so much passion in each of her movement that he asked himself how she was not exploding in it.

He knew what she just did. And as he heard her, claiming her victory, an almost giddy feeling coursed in him. She understood it too. That was the only thing they could comprehend. This was the only way to survive, the world attacked and hit, and you could either take it and become its footboard or making it submit to become yours.

Tom Riddle had understood it at an early age, but she had understood it too.

"Master..."

The dark-haired wizard simply rose his wand, the young Slytherin in front of him falling on the ground with a broken scream of pain. He passed a hand in his silky hair, and looked at the body in front of him contorted itself under the pain, his polished cufflink shining just as much as the awfully charming smile raising his lips.

A breathless laugh escaped him and he let himself take support on the cold wall behind him. Of course, she had understood it too.

 _Yes. I do recognize you._

Her clear and feminine voice rang in his head as he continued to laugh. She understood. She saw him. He wasn't this greedy shadow following trying to grasp her in the realm of dreams anymore. And now...Her rage-filled eyes burned in his mind, this proud, proud gaze which refused to accept contempt. This satisfied gaze buzzing contentedly at the sight of the bodies on the ground.

Now, he _saw_ her too.

§§§

She had to escape this place.

How...

Her wet feet stuck on the cold floor of the corridor at each of her quick steps and her long hair were like whips against her back.

The corridors were almost empty in this early hour and she had to act fast before they filled themselves with students. Before _he_ found her.

Even in the darkness of the night and guarded by a beast, he had found her. As her thoughts were colliding in her mind, she started to run. Even in her dreams, he had found her. All of it was because of this cursed stone.

 _Even the Sky needs a master...Why wouldn't you little hallow ?_

The great doors were still open and she passed through them running, not daring to look behind her and search for a shadow following her. Still the voice of the basilisk rang in her mind, the hissing tone vibrating with amusement as it unveiled tales which felt like truths.

Her feet met the grass as her feverish and searching gaze met the dark lake. She would bury it. If she could not destroy it, she would bury it. Just like the snake hidden and burried in the dark with his perfid words. She too would bury the stone in water and drown to the pit of the wizarding world with its power and secrets.

She walked into the water, advancing toward her tomb, shivering from the touch of the cold liquid. When the water arrived to her shoulders, she took a deep breath and submerged herself opening her eyes to the darkness of its depths. The water looked to be of a dark green color, murky and sinister, to the point that even the light of the newborn day couldn't bring light to it. Under her feet she saw only darkness, opening themselves, desiring to swallow her whole. The stone started to burn her but even its light couldn't brighten enought her surrounding. Even so, her right wirst started to raise itself, as if attracted by the surface.

Before she could close her eyes she felt something grasp her wirst, raising her in a strong hold out of the water. And before she could even comprehend it, she was coughing water on the tender grass surrounding hogwarts. Her breath was short as she rose her eyes to the figure of tall figure of Tom Riddle. He was as wet as her, but very unfairly, he seemed even more handsome like this. His carefully combed hair fell, wet and drenched on his face, ringlets of water caressing his perfect features and surrounding his blazing eyes. Burning eyes. Anger dwelled in them, like a lake of fire.

 _The Sun is the Master of the Sky._

A broken laugh started to escape from her mouth. The shadow had found her. And the shadow never was a shadow. Looking at his statuesque form from the ground, everything made so much more sense. It was the sun, the light of the day following her, opening and desiring to swallow her whole, to destroy her in his flames. Her laugh transformed into sobs as merciless hands rose her to her feets, keeping her in an heavy grasp.

"What did you try to do ?" and his anger was colder than the lake water. It was lurking and boiling, waiting to explode and swallow her. She was going mad.

"It doesn't have any importance what I tried to do ! I couldn't because of you ! It's always you ! Why ?! Why would the sky need a Sun ?! I will not give you the power to become the Sun of this World ! I'll bury it even if I have to bury myself with it ! There will be no Sun, no purpose, no...no, no..."

The claw like hands became feather light as Hermione let herself fall to her knees in the tender grass. The angry voice became enticing and caressing as he followed her lead and let himself get on the grass to her level.

"What Sun ? What do you mean, dear hallow, have you seen me become a Sun to this world ?"

She fought against his grasp before raising an accusing finger, needing to let the world fall from her mind before it exploded.

"I have seen you burning this world and destroying everything you touch ! I have seen you acting in the dark and killing everything pure and good and..."

Tom looked at the womanly form before him, shivering through her anger, seeming caught in a fit of madness, her curls falling flat and drenched on her body, flushed against her skin and her eyes seeming like a pit of gold. Slowly, he took a deep breath and let his own furious mindset to leave him as her words turned inside his head. It seemed that her mind wasn't completely one with the stone. Could it be that the stone had...morals ? Was it because it became a woman ? So carefully he had to thread there. Seductively he had to surround her, for she knew how to make him the Sun of this world.

"Didn't you want to destroy something good once to protect something else ? Didn't you hit thoses girls to protect your pride ?"

"I didn't do it for the cruelty of the act...I wanted justice. Justice." she defended herself.

"What if you are the only fair one in a world of madness and cruelty ?" he insisted, slowly approaching her.

"Loneliness is a small price to pay."

A part of him wanted to put his hands arround her neck and shake her, but another, much more powerful compelled him to bend his face toward her, letting his breath caress her face. How strange, how curious she made him...What did life smell like ? What did life tasted like ?

"And for such a powerful artefact...You used the muggle way to assert your power."

"Why does it matter if I won ?

The wizard looked at her for a long moment in silence, taking in her defiant chin and blazing eyes, the way her mouth was contorted. Her hands already formed tight fists, as if she was ready to fight again. His own smile came to pull a corner of his lips upwards and he raised her stubborn chin with his long and delicate fingers, forcing her eyes to meet his.

"Why does it matter, yes...I now recognize you too, dear hallow. I see you too... And You please me."

 _To be continued..._

 _What do you think ?_


	5. The witch, the Beast and the Sorting Hat

_Thank you for your lovely reviews and support !_

 **CHAPTER IV**

 **The Witch, The Beast and the Sorting Hat**

Tom carefully studied the young woman walking beside him in silence. Her hair was starting to dry and seemed to grow bigger and bigger as the time passed, the curls twirling back on themselves as if they had life of their own. Her gaze was focused right in front of her and her hands shrivelled in tight fists.

He had been wrong. The woman and the stone were not perfectly merged. Which actually meant that the girl had not merely been a sacrifice used by the stone to access to fuller capacities. It meant that the girl had actually been chosen by the hallow, and that the artefact had not replaced her, but was only living in her. It was not using her, it was growing roots in her, deep, deep roots to...to what ? Make itself more powerful ? Act in this world ? No...

The resurrection stone was surely the less interested hallow in worldly buisness. But all the same the most twisted one. It fed on the desire of men for it, for life, and their despair in front of death. It offered the impossible dream of immortality but had never given it to any wizard in all the history of its creation. It rejoiced at seeing hands reaching out for her, to grasp her, and then inevitably falling into madness and death.

No man had ever conquered it, or was its master for a very long time. Yet it still searched for one. His hands twitched with desire. He would conquer it and conquer death with it. But how...Why would such a cruel artefact choose a young lady with an actual moral sense ? One who would prefer death over being used for works of darkness ?

Why indeed...The young man thought quietly all the while observing the figure beside him. The girl seemed to have free will. Even now she was only following him because she knew she could not overpower him. He knew it. She knew it too. She bore the weight of his gaze as if it was shackles. If he gave her one more occasion to flight, she would. They both knew it too.

But even if she ran away again, the day he would let her go would never rise. For he had finally found it. Life. Immortality. His dream of forever all wrapped up in the human body of a woman. His hand itched to touch it. To touch eternity, touch life. He slowed down his pace, now walking slightly behind her and took a deep breath.

He could smell it. Life. She smelled like a day of summer in the countryside. When everything was awaken and buzzed with energy, tiring themselves out to finally fall asleep with the autumn. She smelled like everything and nothing. Warm and fresh, like wet grass and burning wood at the same time. She smelled like a charm, enticing, bearing no known flavor, describable with no words, but enchanting just the same. She smelled like a newborn child, untainted, innocent, good and pure.

His hands itched and quivered. He wanted it.

§§§

"Something is troubling you, My Lord ?" said Acturus Black, making Tom turn his pensive gaze to him.

Acturus Black had always been a particular fellow. The Black's veil of madness was never too far from him, even if he carefully conciled it by his poised and elegant front. He was the incarnation of a Slytherin, always ready to change his skin for his interest, and if he was a cunning and intelligent fellow, Tom had always known that his loyalty was more attached to their cause than to his person.

At least until it was known that he was the legitimate master of the stone. The unsaid promise of a protection against death and the hope for immortality could do marvels in acquiring the lukewarms' faithfullness. And this made him a very interesting interlocutor, for if trust was something never talked about and even less practiced in the house of Slytherins and even more between them, he was still a very good conversationalist, insightfull and so full of his person that he never hesitated to make his point known.

"The stone seems to be as much of a woman as she is a hallow if not more. Even if they have very much merged, the woman still have her free will and a very...surprising personnality to say the least." he slowly answered, his piercing dark eyes fixing themselves on the figure of the other wizard, waiting, testing.

"Surprising ? How so, My Lord ?"

"Good. Very much so. Prone to compassion and attached to good things as well. To the point of sacrificing herself for them."

The young Black furrowed his brows. That was effectively surprising. For such a twisted and cruel hallow to choose a...good person, wholesome and morally inclined, as his receptacle. So, was it that they didn't really know the hallow ? Was it that the stone had its own twisted senses of morals and was not as cruel as they thought ? Was the hallow much more complicated than they had thought ?

Black straightened himself, flattening the crease of his obviously expensive jacket. "If you would permit myself these words my Lord, I would dare to say that this may be more auspicious than complicated."

"Permission granted. Continue."

"Hallows can be owned...but beside the invisible cape, time has proven how fleeting their loyalty to their master was. But a woman, my Lord...A woman can always be seduced. And a _good_ woman's heart is always open for compassion, attachment and, dare I suggest, devotion."

Sowly Tom raised his head from his fist, looking at Black with an intense and unshifting gaze. A long moment of silence passed before the lips of the Slytherin's prefect turned into an amused smile.

"What a dangerous game to play, Mr. Black."

"But a most pleasing one, My Lord, isn't it ?"

§§§

They both knew that she would try again when she took her chance. As soon as she had the occasion, as soon as he left her to the safety and the guard of others Slytherins, she ran. Quite literally. She ran through corridors toward the only place where she knew she could have true answers. The Chambers. The Beast domain. How sad that the snake was the only one she felt she could trust.

The entrance she made herself in the toilet was still open from the last night and she jumped into it as soon as she saw it, letting herself go down and crush on the cold ground.

 _I was waiting for you, little hallow._

Hermione rose from her postition and her eyes fell in the well-known poisonous gaze. The great snake was already out, coiled around itself, the big head raised as if it straightened itself at her arrival.

"You knew that I would come back." she stated more than she asked.

 _Of course, I did. You are just a little hatchling, learning to crawl its way into this world. You are afraid and vulnerable without knowledge. And desperate enough that you would accept it from a creature like me._

"Do you know a way for me to escape ? Escape him ?"

 _You cannot. You know that you cannot. The sun as only one burning eye, but it is enough for him to watch the entire earth._

"Then what ? Should I just burn under him ? Should I just be used ? No...No..."

 _How sad..._ whispersed the creature while surrounding her. _I am the only one here to listen to you, to know you, to help you...And I will help you. I will._

Her voice broke as she asked. "Why ?"

 _Because you come, and he does not. I am an old and crafty king you know, and I know ways to crawl around the oath I made to him. I wouldn't be betraying my master by helping you, for I won't be giving you advices or informations...For all you know you can come and see me and I will just be telling you stories and riddles. What you learn of it is your buisness and your own._

But why take the risk to help her ? Did the creature wanted revenge ? No...It wouldn't turn against his master and Hermione knew that she couldn't trust it fully. But what she could trust was its resentment, its anger at being abandonned once again. She doubted that the snake feelings had been hurt, it was a cold-blood after all, but his pride surely was. She covered the stone on her wirst with her other hand. She did seem to attract vain things...

"Then I want to listen your stories."

 _Of course you do,_ cooed the creature in her mind _, if you do not, you too will be another dusty heirloom, locked up in a chest, for the master enjoys the silent ownership of his forgotten legends and tresors. What they did to me, why wouldn't they do it you ?_

Locked up...Hermione's eyes widened and her hands started to shake as she looked at the snake. Why indeed wouldn't she be locked up in dungeons too ? Kept and safely enclosed so that no one would search for her, or even know that there was a stone to steal. He could do it. Not in the school grounds, but Hogwarts wouldn't protect her for long and a year passed with a blink of eyes...And the stone wouldn't be bothered by this, now would it ? Safe, kept, cherished...Unless...The stone pulsed on her arm, and the witch understood. Kept, Safe, but not cherished, just owned and most importantly, forgotten. Of course the narcissistic thing wouldn't permit it.

"And is there a story about what we can do to escape this fate ?"

 _Men are all weak, dear hallow. And this is why while he is still a man, you can change your fate._

While he is still a man ? Understanding shone in her eyes. Yes, of course. While he is still a man, before all the horcruxes are made, before he become souless, nameless...

"How much time do I have ?"

 _This depends on you performance, dear child. The moon attracts the sun. All day he watch the earth, all night he searches for her, roaming the sky, but never does he close his eye. If there is no moon, the sun will watch the earth day and night, and finish by burning it._

So the story started...She understood very well that Riddle was the Sun. But the moon ? Her eyes fell on the stone, shining with its misty, nocturnal glow. The moon...The stone was the moon. He would follow it and search for it through the night.

"So the moon saves the earth from burning by compelling the sun to follow her at night...doesn't she ? "

An amused gleam appeared in the poisonous gaze and the creature squinted its eyes in a catlike manner, before continuing, raising its head.

 _The moon is a crafty one, isn't she ? For it is only because of the light she receives from the sun that she shines. But no one knows, she surrounds herself with darkness and mysteries as a veil and the arrogant sun doesn't know that what he wants so bad is only a reflection of his own light, of his own desire._

What did it mean ? The witch furrowed her brows as she thought. A reflection of his desire, the light...Life ? What he desired...was life. But he was still alive. How could she gave him what he already have ? Eternal life ? But how ?

"Isn't it similar to the story of Narcissus, then ? He too fell in love with a reflection of his beauty, of his desire, thinking it was another."

 _Yes...Because he was bewitched, then made mad by his own desire._

"Should the sun be mad with desire too ?"

 _Why else would he spend his nights searching for her ? He didn't know he was lonely until he learned what it meant to share the sky. Didn't know desire until she escaped from his grasp, and didn't even saw his own light until he met his reflection in her..._

"But what if...one night...the sun caught the moon ?"

 _Isn't that a new moon, child ? A new moon is when the sky is silent and the world in peace..._

§§§

"Miss Rowle ! Your brother was searching for you everywhere !"

Hermione slowly lifted her eyes to encounter the Slughorn's scolding one.

"Why would he ?" she slowly asked.

"Why would...Why wouldn't he, you mean, young lady ? He is your guardian, young lady, and it is time for your sorting."

Guardian ? A dry smile lifted her lips. She had almost forget in what period she went in. As she followed the professor in the corridor, his rantings surrounding her, she felt her eyes anxiously following the progression of the moon in the sky at each windows they passed. Her heart thundered in her chest as she saw the sun immediately starting to lay down, searching for her as she rose. Her hand tightened in a fist as relief fell over her. A quarter...It was not the New Moon. Not yet. He hadn't caught her.

"Miss Rowle ?"

"Yes ?" the witch answered hastily.

"We're here. Mr Dippet's office is behind this statue. Do you have any apprehension for your sorting ?"

She looked at him for a long moment, before walking toward the statue, preferring to keep her voice and her apprehensions for herself.

The office was different than she remembered it. Less lively, and much more luxurious. The portraits on the whole were present in an inferior number, but in a much bigger size. Sitted in a big armchair was the Professor Dippet, surrounded by a mass of professors and two students. She recognized Damocles Rowle with his large frame, messy blond hair and savage gaze and of course...him.

Riddle...The Sun. And that he was. Even as he was standing close to the headmaster, it seemed that all eyes were fixed on him only as he talked in a soothing and melodious voice, his hair falling into waves around his perfect face, and his charming smile just in place.

As she entered the discussion stopped and they all turned to see her. Him first of course. His gaze burned her. She looked through the window quickly. The sun had set. His hunt had started...

"-oach, Miss Rowle."

"Excuse me ?" she asked as she forced her gaze from the window.

"Well, I said, please, approach, Miss Rowle."said the Professor Dippet, with an indulgent smile that seemed made to soothe emotional young pureblood ladies.

Hermione gaze fell on the hat waiting for her on the wooden chair at the center of the room. The chair was cushioned with red velvet, and she asked herself again if she would have received this treatment with a different name.

"Should I just put it on ?" she calmly asked while looking at the worn, black hat.

The Professor Dippet seemed to be surprised by her straightforward speech and didn't answer immediately, before simply giving a single nod. Before he could ask for someone to help her the witch sat and put the pointy hat over her head, feeling it cover her eyes as the long-forgotten and rusty voice reasonnated in her head for the second time.

 _Well, well, well...Who are you to come and visit me, dear one ?_

She furrowed her brows. Shouldn't the sorting hat know who she was ? Shouldn't he be able to read her mind as well as her heart ?

 _How could I read them when they are both the most messy place I have ever been, child ? My mission is to reveal your true self. But it seems like you haven't made peace with yourself enough to enlighten my path in your head. So let me repeat it, Miss ? Who are you ? Are you the little Hermione Granger ? Or perhaps should I just call you hallow for that is what lives in you ? Or...Could you be the moon of this dangerous sky ?_

He knew...Of course, he knew. This old thing had enough practice at reading thoughts that he could even decipher her confused ones. Who is she, he asked ? The answer was obvious ! She was...She was... Who was she ? The stone burned on her arm, and she felt light-headed as the memories of a hissing sang in her heart. She was...All of them.

 _Now, now...What an imprudent thing to think. Hermione Granger is without a doubt a Gryffindor. But the stone belongs to the heirs Slytherin for now more than five hundred years._

But what was the moon ?

 _Careful, Miss Granger._

She couldn't be.

 _Are you sure ?_

Where did the moon go ?

 _Where the sun follows..._ "Slytherin !"

 _To be continued..._

 _Next chapter, the dangerous game start...Let me know what you think !_


End file.
